Pony Party: Mortified!

     Welcome to an intensely romantic, tingly all over, pre-Valentine’s Day edition of Pony Party, during which we gaze deeply into each other’s eyes — and whoever blinks first buys the next round. That’s fair, isn’t it? Especially since we’re exploring that vast, uncharted, explosive-laden territory called “love.” (Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s where the “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here” sign was supposed to go. Shouldn’t it at least be displayed at both places?)  

    Tonight, Pony Party is brought to you by Mortified: Love is a Battlefield by David Nadelberg. David’s earlier book, Mortified: Real People. Real Words. Real Pathetic., dredged up the pain of adolescence with actual quotes from diaries, essays and letters.

    Love is a Battlefield narrows that perspective. The book is an ode to love gone bad, a celebration of defeat, disgrace and dashed hopes that are the essence of first love. (In fact, recalling those disastrous days just makes me wonder – why are we so dogged in our pursuit of an emotion that never fails to turn around and bite us where it hurts most?  Isn’t this like insisting on repeatedly flying in an airplane that was specifically designed to crash and burn? But I digress….)

    Based again on diary entries and love letters, Mortified covers “the boundlessly embarrassing topic of childhood love … unrequited crushes, awkward hookups, odd celebrity infatuations and all manner of romantic catastrophes.”

    Hilarious doesn’t do this book justice – here’s just a teeny tiny little copyright-infringement-free sample:

“Introducing Live Evil: Laurent Martini

              Least Likely to … Roll with His Safety On

I was launched to sink. I was short and fat and had braces and huge glasses. My desperate desire to be cool was most likely only surpassed by my extreme desire to have a girlfriend. Knowing that my looks put me at an insurmountable disadvantage, I decided that the only way to achieve my goal was to become a rock star and form the greatest metal band ever: LIVE EVIL.”

Fueled by a fixation on Motley Crue, and with inhibitions smothered in Jack Daniels and Bailey’s Irish Crème (gak!), Laurent created more than 100 songs, including: “Blame it on the Booze,” “Shot of Jack,” and “Shit for Brains.” Yet, mysteriously, both love and rock stardom remained elusive. Now older and wiser, Laurent has at least come to terms with the failure of his bad-boy rocker dream:    

“The only drawbacks? My upper-middle class upbringing in the San Francisco Marina District, elite private French schooling, and the fact that I was too lazy to actually form the band.”

Of course, all good things come to those who wait, and Laurent demonstrated that some old adages are not complete crocks. He did find a woman and get married. And although that proved to be a short-lived state of bliss, he also got around to the rock band part of his dream. Sadly, it’s … well, I’m going to refrain from commenting. You can experience it for yourself at www.lifeevilrocks.com.  

Laurent’s Live Evil saga is just one of many heart-throbbing tales in Love is a Battlefield. It would be remiss not to mention chapters like Marnie Pomerantz’s “Hot for Teacher,” “My Life as a Biker Babe” by Jane Cantillon and Johanna Stein’s priceless tribute to Led Zeppelin, “Stairway to Winnipeg.” In fact, other than a couple of truly weird ones, the entire book is a hoot.  

    Please, do your Valentine a favor and buy Love is a Battlefield, or at least get it from the library. But do not rec the Pony Party. The ponies are all weepy and their mascara is running from remembering their own adolescent heartbreaks, so get off their backs, okay? Record your own lovesick childhood foolishness in the comments (we won’t laugh, promise! ha ha ha). Then be excellent to yourself and giddy-up on over to the esteemed Front Page and Recent and Recommended Diaries, where there are serious people discussing important issues without bursting into tears and wondering how that bottle could be empty already and if the package store delivery service is still available. Pass me a tissue, would you please?  

UPDATE: The ponies are dragging me off the class. Be back later. Don’t make a mess while I’m gone, you hear? Love you!